


Bit by Bit

by fembuck



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fembuck/pseuds/fembuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleanor and Max have their lunch date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to “A Light in the Night”. Also, this story was written prior to the release of the season 1 finale, so while it is canonically sound through episode 7, there will be some divergences from the show canon established in the season finale.

Part I

Eleanor stood in front of her mirror and studied her reflection critically.  Her hair was in place, her clothes were simple but flattering to her figure, her cheeks were subtly rouged, and the scarf draped around her neck added a hopefully debonair flare to the ensemble.  She looked good, but as she continued to scan herself in the mirror, she once again became possessed with an urge to tear off everything she had put on and start building an outfit again from scratch.  Good was fine for a normal day, good was acceptable for meetings with the consortium and greeting the captains of newly ported ships, but she was having lunch with Max, and good was not enough for that.

Tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Eleanor began undoing the scarf she had only a minute before finished tying as she walked back towards her closet.

A minute later a knock sounded on the door, interrupting Eleanor’s perusal of her clothes.

“Who is it?” Eleanor called out impatiently.

“Eme.”

“Come in,” Eleanor replied, tossing the scarf in her hand onto the growing pile of rejected clothes on her bed before turning around to face the opening door.

“Everything is ready,” Eme said as she stepped into the room and then closed the door behind her.

“So early?” Eleanor asked, surprised.

“Not so early,” Eme replied, her eyes skirting over to Eleanor’s bed and the pile of discarded outfits on it.  “It’s only minutes til noon.  The cook was concerned you’d be cross things hadn’t been finished sooner.”

“Then I suppose this will have to do,” Eleanor sighed, looking down at herself.

She smoothed her hands over her fabric of her skirt and then walked over to the bed and picked up the scarf she had just tossed aside.

“Allow me,” Eme said as Eleanor draped the scarf over her neck once again and began to fold it.

“It’s fine. I can manage on my own.”

“No doubt,” Eme replied watching Eleanor keenly.  “It would be easier with some help.”

“I…” Eleanor began.

When she started to speak it had been her intention to issue another protest, she as she looked at Eme, she thought better of it.  Eme had made the offer of her own volition and though Eleanor did not like being fussed over, she thought it would be poor manners to turn down the considerate offer.

“Very well. Thank you,” Eleanor continued a moment later, dropping her hands to her side in invitation for Eme to step forward and help her with the scarf.

“You’re nervous,” Eme commented as she began to secure the scarf.

Eleanor’s eyes dropped down to consider Eme’s expression, but the woman was looking down, her eyes focused on her fingers as they moved deftly, tying the scarf.

“You’re mistaken,” Eleanor replied stiffly.

“Of course,” Eme breathed out, her tone leaving no doubt in Eleanor’s mind that the woman didn’t believe her in the slightest.

“It’s a luncheon, not tea with the Royal Navy.  I have nothing to be nervous about,” Eleanor said in response to Eme’s unspoken scepticism.

“If you say so.  But, though I am new here, I am not deaf or blind,” Eme murmured, stepping back now that she was finished with Eleanor’s scarf.

Eleanor was quiet for a few moments as she studied the woman in front of her.  They had only known each other for a couple of weeks, but within minutes of meeting the former slave, Eleanor had known that she was in the presence of a remarkable woman.  The lot they had been dealt in life was very different, but despite that they were similar in many ways.  They were both strong, stubborn, forthright, and unwilling to capitulate to the expectations of others. They were both observant and intelligent as well, and presently Eleanor could see that intelligence at work in Eme’s dark eyes.

“What have your eyes and ears gleaned?” Eleanor asked, holding Eme’s eyes for a second longer before stepping back. “To convince you that I am in such a sorry state?” she continued, turning her attention back to the mirror and her reflection once more.

“That this is not meeting with a potential business partner,” Eme replied as Eleanor lifted her hands to her hair, patting at blonde strands that were already perfectly secure.  “You care about the woman.”

“I do not disagree with your assessment.  Max is a dear friend,” Eleanor responded without looking away from her mirror.

“From the way your eyes follow her night after night, I would not have used that word to describe what she was to you, or what you seek to make her again,” Eme commented, remaining still and calm, even when Eleanor turned sharply and lanced her with her pale eyes.

They gazed at each other for a few moments, the silence between them tense, until Eleanor finally sighed and looked away.

“Fair enough,” the blonde breathed out as she stepped back from the mirror and nervously smoothed her hands over her skirt again.  “It was never a secret. Nothing is on this island.  Not for long anyway,” she continued, finally looking up to meet Eme’s eyes again.  “Do you think she’ll find me tolerable?” Eleanor asked, glancing down at herself uncertainly before looking back over at Eme.

“From the way her eyes follow you night after night, I think she will and has always found you more than tolerable,” Eme replied, a small, sly smile touching her lips.

“She’s …” Eleanor began eagerly, before consciously calming her tone.  “You’ve seen her watching me?”

Eme nodded before saying, “She tries not to.  But her eyes find you again and again, watching with … I think the word is, pining.”

Upon hearing Eme’s words, Eleanor’s lips curved up the slightest bit, but only for a moment.

“I pray that is the word,” she murmured softly before turning her head towards her closed bedroom door.  “I should go,” she declared assertively though her hands once again nervously ran over the front of her skirt.  “I’m not sure about this blouse, it …”

Eme walked to the door and opened it as Eleanor began to fret again, then she turned and looked at the blonde pointedly, waiting for her to move.

“Okay,” Eleanor said decisively, taking a step towards the door.  “Thank you,” she added a few seconds later as she walked past Eme into the hallway.  “Truly,” Eleanor continued when Eme finished pulling in her bedroom door.  “Thank you,” she repeated meaningfully.

A small smile touched Eme’s lips and then she nodded her head at Eleanor before starting down the hallway.

xxx

When Max made her appearance on the terrace at a quarter past noon, Eleanor rose quickly from the seat she had been anxiously perched on, and went to greet her, chivalrously taking Max’s hand and kissing the back of it before leading Max to the table.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Eleanor said a bit sheepishly once she had retaken her seat.  “I may have gone a little overboard. I rarely take time to eat a proper midday meal, and as so I left it up to Mrs. McKenzie to compile the menu. Consequently … well, please do not feel obligated to try and eat everything.  She has embraced English excess, and should we try to consume every morsel presented I fear it would be the end of us.  Gastromortus,” Eleanor pronounced dramatically, drawing a smile to Max’s lips.

“You did not need to go to such trouble for Max,” Max murmured a moment later, though her lips remained curved up in a gentle smile as she looked at Eleanor.

“I may not have needed to, but I wanted to,” Eleanor said earnestly.  “I think this may be the first proper meal we’ve shared together, and as such I wished for it to be memorable.”

“If Max must be rolled ‘ome afterwards, she is sure it will be,” Max replied, still smiling gently.

“I won’t let it come to that,” Eleanor assured her gallantly.  “I could have a litter fashioned in no time at all.  Duncan and McGuire could carry you home like a queen, a contemporary Cleopatra.”

“And what would you be doing during all this, my Marc Antony?” Max asked, cheekily.

Tales of people such as Marc Antony and Cleopatra, King Arthur, Joan of Arc, and Henry VIII, had been unknown to Max for most of her life.  Such information had no relevance to her daily existence, and even if she had known to be interested in such things, there was nobody who could have, or would have, taught her.  Then she had met Eleanor, who, after they had thoroughly exhausted themselves making love, liked to gather Max up in her arms and talk to her about the people she had learned about in books, and from Mr. Scott’s lessons, and like a sponge, Max had absorbed her words, clinging onto every one, as eager for knowledge as she was for the sound of Eleanor’s voice.

“Walking dutifully at the side, holding palms leaves to keep you cool,” Eleanor replied, a small smile touching her lips as a rush of warmth shivered through her at Max’s use of the word “my” in relation to her.

“You should ‘ave Mendes ‘elp Duncan and McGuire with the litter, then you could join Max inside.”

“That’s a much better plan,” Eleanor agreed with a smile as Eme appeared on the terrace with the first part of the first course of their meal.  “I … Stewart’s supposed to be serving,” Eleanor said, her response to Max interrupted as she turned to address Eme.

Eme came to a stop by Eleanor’s side of the table and then carefully placed a dish of oyster sauce before the blonde.  As she did, she used her close proximity to Eleanor to whisper, “I’ll be more discreet. In every way.”

Eme then straightened up and made her way over to Max’s side of the table where she addressed Eleanor in a conversational tone, saying, “I could fetch him if you’d prefer.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Eleanor replied, locking eyes with Eme thankfully.  “I have every confidence in your abilities.”

Eme nodded and then, under Eleanor’s watchful eyes, made her way off the terrace as quietly as she had entered.

“A new purchase?” Max asked, arching an eyebrow when Eleanor’s gaze fell upon her again.

“It’s not like that,” Eleanor answered stiffly, a wounded look coming into her eyes.  “You know I do not agree with the buying and selling of human beings.  Eme was one of the captives being held on The Andromache with Scott.  Upon his return to Nassau he asked me to do what I could for the others,” Eleanor continued, pausing only when Eme silently slipped back onto the terrace to deliver a platter of fish and vegetables.  “Thank you,” Eleanor said softly when she had finished, and a small smile touched Eme’s lips as she nodded at Eleanor before slipping away again.

“Better to be indentured to you, than cutting cane, or breaking rocks at the quarry, oui?” Max asked when she and Eleanor were alone on the terrace once more.

Eleanor was silent for a moment after Max spoke, her eyes searching Max’s face, before she sighed and then looked away.

“Do you ask that to wound me, or do you honestly think so little of me?” Eleanor breathed out, the food that had just been delivered to the table temporarily forgotten.

“Max asks questions based on what she sees.”

“Then you do not see as much as you think you do,” Eleanor responded sadly.  “I did purchase Eme and the five other females that were held on The Andromache, but their lives are now their own.  Eme is not owned by me, she works for wages under my employ.  She can leave this house and my service whenever she chooses, as can the others, as did Mr. Scott.  I am no one’s master,” Eleanor continued unable to keep the hurt Max’s insinuations had caused her out of her voice.  “My skin may be white Max, but I thought you’d know by now that I’m no devil.”

Silence reigned on the terrace in the seconds that followed the last of Eleanor’s words until Max broke it by quietly saying her name.

“Yes?” Eleanor asked tiredly, looking up and over at her.

“I’m sorry,” Max said, purposefully holding Eleanor’s eyes so that she could see the truth of her words in them, even though shame made her want to avert her gaze.  “Max’s words were unfair,” she continued, sighing softly.  “I am … not as I was before,” breathed out, looking away from Eleanor.  “Max is ‘ard these days, even when she does not wish to be.  She ‘as learned to expect the worst and ‘ope for nothing.  She is quick to doubt.  I did not mean to ‘urt you,” she went on, eyes trained on the top of the finely arranged table.  “I know your ‘eart is kind.”

Eleanor released a shaky breath and nodded her head, acknowledging Max’s words while taking a moment to compose herself.

“I understand,” Eleanor exhaled a few seconds later, wishing desperately that she’d arranged for them to share a smaller table so that she could have reached out and taken Max’s hand.  “I know I’ve given you reason to doubt my intentions in the past,” she continued shakily.  “It will take time for you to trust me, to trust in me again, and I accept that,” she pronounced softly, her hand twitching with a desire to touch that she could not satisfy from where she was seated.  “I…”

Eleanor paused and then stood, before determinedly taking hold of her chair and dragging it from its proper spot by the end of the table, over to where Max was sitting.  She then she took a seat beside the dark-skinned beauty.

“I’m grateful that you’re here, and that you have allowed me this opportunity to try and redeem myself in your eyes,” Eleanor began, taking Max’s hand into her own once she had reseated herself.  “I may not look like much, but my feelings are not so delicate that they cannot endure a knock or two.  It’s okay.”

Max’s hand squeezed at Eleanor’s tightly as the last of her words fell from her lips, and then she swayed to the side, into Eleanor’s personal space and leaned into the blonde until her forehead gently made contact with Eleanor’s.

“Max is still sorry,” Max breathed out, holding the intimate position, taking comfort in the closeness of Eleanor.

“It’s still okay,” Eleanor murmured, shifting just enough to place a chaste kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth.

Max’s lips curved up when Eleanor drew back slightly, and the sight of her smile automatically brought one to Eleanor’s lips.

They stayed like that for a few moments, gazing at each other peacefully, forehead to forehead, their lips curved up gently as they held each other’s eyes, the tender moment only ending when Eleanor detected movement in her periphery and pulled back from Max, her head turning towards the doors that led from the house to the terrace.

“What is it?” Max asked following Eleanor’s gaze.

“I hope you’re not thirsty,” Eleanor said, chewing on her bottom lip for a second before she looked back over at Max.  “I think Eme just disappeared inside again with the drinks.”

“She’s like a mouse that one,” Max breathed out.

“More of a fox, I’d say,” Eleanor replied lightly, a crooked little smile tugging up the corners of her lips.  “She’s clever and I’m grateful for it. Lord knows what stories Stewart would’ve told about what Eme just walked in on if he’d been serving us like he was supposed to.”  Stewart was a good lad, Eleanor wouldn’t still have been employing him if he wasn’t, but after a few pints at the tavern his mouth did have a tendency to run.  “She was right take over the job from him.”

“Is that what she was whispering to you about earlier?” Max asked.

She had noticed the whispered the exchange between Eleanor and Eme earlier, as well as the silent exchange between their eyes that had followed.  Eme was an attractive woman, and though a part of Max knew that it was silly for her to worry about Eleanor’s eye wandering as Eleanor tried to win her back, another part of her, the part of her that now angered and mistrusted easily, had been suspicious of the exchange, had been jealous.

“Yes,” Eleanor murmured. “I think she’s seen how he can get after an hour in the tavern and wanted to make sure the happenings of our meal remained a private affair.  Speaking of which,” Eleanor said, focusing her attention on the food that they had not yet touched.  “When I very elegantly, very dashingly invited you to lunch … don’t laugh too much I’m very sensitive,” Eleanor added when Max grinned, remembering Eleanor’s rambling invitation from the night before, “I promised you food and I have not yet fulfilled that vow.  May I?” she asked, gesturing to Max’s plate.

“By all means,” Max replied handling it over to Eleanor so that she could lay some food upon it.

xxx

“And where have you been?” Rackham started up the moment Max entered the brothel.

“What business is it of yours?” Max asked rolling every syllable of her question hard as she cut her eyes at him.

“Might I remind you that we were in the middle of the rather important task of making sure we get fucking paid,” Rackham replied his voice getting louder and archer as his words progressed, “when you decided to pop the fuck out for four fucking hours.”

“Max is not the one who slunk off before we were done last night so that she could get a spanking and a reach around,” Max replied, smiling wickedly as she met his eyes.

“I don’t appreciate you bringing that up in such a public location,” Rackham whispered harshly, leaning down to speak into Max’s ear.  “You barged in on a private encounter between consenting adults and it is unfair, and of very low character, for you to just fling it at me whenever you want a cheap thrill.”

“Max does not care,” Max shrugged.  “Max does not like you.  Max tolerates you,” she declared.  “You are a necessary evil like monthly bleeding,” she concluded as she took a seat at the back table where they had spread the books out earlier before she left to meet Eleanor.

“Still can’t play nice eh, you two?” Anne asked, not bothering to look up from her knife as she used it to dig under her nails.

Max narrowed her eyes at Anne and then took a seat in a clearly disgruntled manner.

“I … I need a fucking drink,” Jack declared before wandering off, muttering irritably under his breath.

“He’s mad,” Anne offered helpfully, breaking the silence that had fallen after Jack’s exit.

“Thanks,” Max muttered sarcastically.  “Don’t pick at your nails like that,” she continued a second later, reaching out to swat at Anne’s hand.

“Eh, watch it you!” Anne complained, drawing her knife away from Max’s hand before pointing it irritably in her face.  “’ands off!”

“You’re going to get an infection and lose a nail,” Max declared, holding Anne’s eyes for a second before she looked away and leaned against the back of the bench, crossing her arms as she settled in to wait for Jack’s return.

“Where’d ya go?” Anne asked, putting her knife away before moving to perch herself on the top of the bench seat Max sat on.

“To Versailles,” Max replied without missing a beat.  “The Sun King ‘ad me over for brunch.”

Anne chuckled at that and Max’s demeanor softened.

“Where’d ya go?”

“’ad lunch with Eleanor,” Max breathed out, meeting Anne’s eyes steadily, daring her to say something about it.

“Bout time,” Anne muttered, shaking her head as she glared at Max.  “What’d she feed ya?”

“That’s it?” Max asked incredulously.  “You go around calling her ‘cunt’ and ‘smug bitch’, and all you have to say about me ‘aving lunch with her is, ‘bout time?’?”

“’lways knew you were gonna crawl back between ‘er legs,” Anne said moodily.  “All this bother in the meantime’s just grating on me nerves,” she continued, taking out her knife to play with it again, though she didn’t dig at her nails with it this time.  “Maybe now you can stop starin’ at ‘er all the time like … like some kinda ‘orned up owl.”

Max looked over at Anne aghast and Anne shrugged.

Max looked away from her huffily in response.

“’ow’d it go?” Anne asked a minute later, nudging Max with the tip of her boot.

“Fine,” Max bit out, pushing at Anne’s leg in an attempt to get her dirty boot away from her.  “Anne,” she muttered darkly.

Anne maintained her resistance for a few seconds longer, and then she relented and withdrew her leg.

“Fine?” she questioned as she readjusted her hat.  “Sounds borin’.”

“It wasn’t boring,” Max declared, angling her head up to face Anne.  “It was … very nice,” Max said softly, her lips curving up in a gentle smile as she thought back on her afternoon.

Anne snorted, amused.  “Was she a perfect gentleman, like in one a dem fuckin’ fairy stories?”

“Pretty close,” Max breathed out.

“Did ya fuck?” Anne asked.

“Max is not going to continue talking to you if you keep behaving like an animal,” Max said, pointing a warning finger at Anne.  “Then you can ‘elp Jack go over the books.  See ‘ow soon you make it to a poker game then.”

“Think it were a fair question considerin’ as that were all the two’a you used ta get up to,” Anne muttered, “but if you’re gonna be a cunt about it then I withdraw the fuckin’ question.”

“We didn’t fuck,” Max muttered in response.  “We ‘ad a very good, very large meal.  We took a carriage ride in the country,” she added, “and drank wine.”

Anne snickered quietly to herself but didn’t say anything out loud.

“It was romantic,” Max said defiantly, unwilling to allow Anne and her lack of sentimentality to ruin her good mood.

In addition to the wine, Eleanor had also packed away some tarts, and they’d had a lovely, tipsy, crumbly ride through the country that was interspersed with Eleanor reciting as many fragments of poems as she could remember from her days under Mr. Scott’s tutelage.

Eleanor had given her a golden afternoon. She had treated her like a lady, like someone important, and precious. In the shade of her terrace and under the cover of the carriage, Eleanor had given Max a few blessed hours where she had been able to smile, and laugh, and relax, without memories of Hammond and the others coming to the forefront of her mind and making her feel dirty and damaged.  After having lived a nightmare, for a little while, Eleanor had managed to envelope her in a dream. 

“Fucking’s romantic too,” Anne muttered.

“Sometimes I wonder ‘ow I am able resist you,” Max breathed out sarcastically provoking Anne to stick her tongue out at her in retaliation.

“The raw power of me terrifies you,” Anne breathed out, and Max just stared at her for a moment before she burst out laughing.  “Fuck you then, you aren’t so cute,” Anne muttered.

Max continued to laugh for a few more seconds, but then managed to pull herself together.

She rested her head against Anne’s thigh and tilted her head up so that she was looking into Anne’s eyes.

“It is taking all of Max’s willpower not to eat your cunt right now,” she breathed out softly, staring into Anne’s eyes.

“The fuck is this?” Jack asked, returning to the table just in time to hear Max’s words to Anne.

“Scared of the competition?” Max asked, grinning as she turned to face him.

“Not at all.  My darling Anne is definitely almost always satisfied with what I have and the use I put it to,” Jack replied, holding his head high as Anne snickered.  “You could, you know, agree, my dear.”

“He knows what he’s doin’,” Anne said firmly, and Jack smiled and turned around to look at Max.

“I don’t want to ‘ear about it,” Max said decisively.  She knew too much about their sex life already.  “Drink up and let’s get to work.”

“I’ll be back,” Anne muttered, slipping off of the back of the bench.

“Oh well, what a surprise,” Jack said, lifting his hands up into the air as Anne disappeared from sight.  “We should see her again sometime next week.”

Max laughed and then murmured, “’er timing is impeccable.”

“Right, well, pass us that glass,” Jack said, gesturing at the empty cup by Max’s elbow.

“Get new glasses Jack,” Max sighed tiredly.

“New glasses are all the way over there,” Jack said waving his arm about to indicate a distance too ridiculous to even contemplate, as if the tavern was in the outer reaches of observable space.  “We’re over here.  It’s fine.”

“I know where your lips have been Jack Rackham and Max is not drinking from anything that tastes of Anne’s ass,” Max said looking him dead in the eyes.

“You,” Jack pronounced, pointing his finger in Max’s face, “Are the devil.”

And with that he stood up and stalked off to get some clean glasses while Max smirked and took a sip from the bottle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Eleanor's relationship continues to progress.

**PART II**

 

In the days and weeks that followed their lunch date, Eleanor and Max were not able to carve out time to see each other every day, but on most days they managed to find at least a couple hours to spend with each other.

Some nights they stayed in the tavern, sitting around talking with Eme as she tended the bar, on other nights they brought a blanket out to the sand of the Guthrie property’s private beach and lay looking at the stars.  Eleanor knew the names of most of the constellations and where to find them in the night sky. She’d spent many evenings as a young girl looking up, following Scott’s finger as he pointed at the stars, his voice steady and soothing as Eleanor hung on his every word.  Max was the story-teller, taking the names Eleanor spoke and weaving intricate stories out of them, tales of love, and war, and greed, and passion, and just like when she was a girl, Eleanor would look up at the twinkling orbs and listen to the gentle, musical lilt of Max’s voice, letting it take her away to a place of wonder.

Some mornings, Max would sneak over to Eleanor’s in the early hours, just as the sun was beginning to rise, and they would take a bath together.  Eleanor had an array of scented waters that Max greatly enjoyed perusing; searching to find the scent that most perfectly fit her mood on any particular morning.  Once she had made her selection, Eleanor would add the scent to the water in the tub, and then climb into the rose, or lavender or chamomile scented pool.  Max would then join her, situating herself between Eleanor’s legs before easing back against the blonde, relaxing into Eleanor’s embrace.  When the water cooled and they climbed out of the tub, they oftentimes draped robes over their nude bodies and went out onto Eleanor’s balcony to dine on a simple breakfast of rolls and jam and tea, enjoying the heat of the morning sun and the sound of the churning sea.  

On occasion Eleanor was tense, and stressed, and too wired to do anything but fret and stand out on the balcony staring out at the flickering lights of her outlaw island.  Max would join her sometimes out on the balcony, tucking herself between Eleanor’s body and the railing, taking comfort in the gentle rise and fall of Eleanor’s chest against her back while her eyes scanned the same landscape as Eleanor’s and tried to see what it was Eleanor loved so much about this place.  Other times, Max would lounge in her bed, or on Eleanor’s comfy leather chair, and she would hum as Eleanor brooded, filling the room with something light to counter the darkness of night and Eleanor’s mood.

There were times when dealing with the girls and their clients, and Jack and Anne, became too much for Max to bear, and she would seek out Eleanor, dragging her to some private place so that she could vent.  She would pace back and forth across the rug in Eleanor’s office, or the creaking floorboards of her bedroom, and Eleanor would give her space and listen quietly, waiting out the storm.  And when Max was done, and she had stilled, Eleanor would open her arms to Max, and Max would crawl into them, finally allowing herself to be soothed.

On other nights, when it was early, before the girls started bringing the men upstairs in droves, they would lie on Max’s bed and Eleanor would read to her. Max could read, Eleanor had learned early on in her friendship with Max, when she had left a letter from an old suitor of hers in Boston sitting on the bar one night when Max had joined her for conversation.  Shortly after taking the seat beside Eleanor, Max had picked up the letter Eleanor had discarded in favour of conversing with her, and she had taken great delight in reading out the sappiest and most overwrought passages in the six page document, while Eleanor laughed and occasionally interrupted Max’s commentary to insist that she had never encouraged the author of letter to pursue her.  Max preferred to listen to Eleanor read however, and Eleanor quite enjoy reading out loud and getting a chance to be theatrical, so Eleanor always read.  They were almost through _Robinson Crusoe_ , and Eleanor thought that next they might give _Gulliver’s Travels_ a try.

On this particular night, they were in Eleanor’s room.  It was late, they were supposed to have met up earlier but Max had been called away to help Rackham mediate some debate between Marie and the quartermaster of _The Myrmidon_ , and after that one minor crisis had followed another until Max ended up arriving at Eleanor’s just after one in the morning.

“Max did not think you would still be up,” Max said, slightly breathless as slipped into Eleanor’s room.

“I’d stay up until dawn if it meant getting to see you for even a second before I was forced to face the day,” Eleanor breathed out, putting the papers she had been looking at aside.  “What happened?” Eleanor asked, her brows creasing with worry as she observed Max.  “You look exhausted.”

“’uman stupidity, displaying itself infinitely,” Max sighed as she approached Eleanor.  “Let’s not speak of it,” she said, slipping onto Eleanor’s lap, straddling her in the wide leather chair Eleanor had been lounging in.

“What do you want to speak of?” Eleanor asked lazily, smiling gently as Max sighed when she slipped her arms around her.

“Nothing,” Max murmured, using her finger to tilt Eleanor’s face up so that she could lean down and kiss her.

Eleanor moaned softly as she arched up, meeting Max’s lips eagerly though she was careful to keep her hands still and undemanding where they had fallen to rest on Max’s thighs.

It had taken Eleanor that whole first week to work up the nerve to kiss Max properly, and then when she’d decided that she could find the twenty seconds of courage necessary to complete the task, Max had beat her to it, taking Eleanor’s face between her hands and drawing Eleanor’s mouth over to hers.

During the second week of their new courtship, they did little more than kiss during their almost nightly dates.  Eleanor had still hesitant then, so Max had initiated all of the contact between their lips until Eleanor finally came to accept that Max was always receptive to the sweet brush of her lips, and began to take initiative on occasion.

During the third week Max showed up at Eleanor’s in the morning and suggested they take a bath together and Eleanor had all too happily agreed, eager to see Max again and hold her, even if they did not make love.  And they had not made love, but they had lain together later before taking a late breakfast.  Naked on Eleanor’s bed, they had gently traced curves and dips and valleys that they had once known so well, as Max regaled Eleanor with stories of the brothel from the night before.

As time wore on, Max had begun to touch Eleanor more as they kissed, her hands moving to Eleanor’s breasts, and ass, and thighs, but if Eleanor’s hands wandered too much Max would tense, so Eleanor had learned to keep her hands as still as possible and let Max explore as she wished, reacclimating herself with the pleasant touch of another’s body against her and on top of her.

On one of the those nights, when one of Max’s hands found its way under Eleanor’s skirt and between her legs, Eleanor had squeezed her thighs together, trapping Max’s hand as she looked up her helplessly.  “I won’t be able to stop …” Eleanor had said, her cheeks flushing with heat as she gazed up at Max.  “If your hand’s there, I won’t be able to stop from …” she hadn’t finished her sentence, they both knew what the end of it would be.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Max had breathed out, leaning down to kiss Eleanor.  “I want you to come,” she purred, and Eleanor had shuddered beneath her, her body arching into Max with need.

Later, when Eleanor had recovered from her climax, she had rolled onto Max smiling and Max had leaned up to kiss her gently before pressing the palm of her right hand against Eleanor chest and whispering, “Not yet.”  Eleanor’s eyes had scanned her face for a few seconds, and then she nodded and leaned down, kissing Max softly before she rolled off of her and curled herself around Max’s torso instead, simply holding her close.

Max hadn’t taken her on every night that followed, but she had taken her on most, and Eleanor’s body had begun to grow accustomed to finishing again, to coming, and she had to work to keep her hands still presently and not try to guide Max in any way.  She couldn’t always tell when things were going to continue to progress or when they were going to cool down, and so she tried to simply follow Max’s lead until Max made contact with her cunt, which was always the sign that she would see Eleanor to completion.

“Ellie,” Max whispered hotly against Eleanor’s throat as she pressed kisses up the length of it, her hips rocking into Eleanor’s body as she spoke.

“Yes,” Eleanor panted, eyes closed, head tilted back.

“Come to bed,” Max breathed out, her breath hot against Eleanor’s ear before she slipped off of her lap.  “But take off your clothes before you do,” she added before walking towards Eleanor’s bed.

Eleanor undressed as quickly as she could while her eyes trailed after Max, watching as Max stripped her clothes from her body far more elegantly than Eleanor was managing.  She did managed to successfully disrobe however, and without falling over, which she considered to be a great success.  Then once she was nude, she crawled onto the mattress and onto Max.

“Kiss me,” Max breathed out when Eleanor had settled herself.

“With pleasure,” Eleanor murmured before leaning down.

“Kiss me again,” Max said when Eleanor pulled back from her mouth much later, both of their lips now swollen with the ardour of their kisses.

Eleanor leaned down, but Max cupped her jaw with her hand, halting her progressive halfway to her lips.

“Not there,” Max whispered, before her eyes flickered down.

Eleanor breathed in deeply as arousal thundered through her body.  Max had been bringing her to orgasm on and off for the past couple weeks, but she had not allowed Eleanor to touch her in return, and despite her restraint, inside Eleanor had been desperate for it.  She always enjoyed being on the receiving end of Max’s ministrations, but she’d also greatly enjoyed the act of making love to Max, it thrilled her to see Max, to hear, to taste her.  On many occasions in the past, Max had actually been forced to physically force Eleanor face from between her legs when she had become too sensitive for any more, such was force of Eleanor’s passion for her.  Determined as she was to wait for as long as Max needed, it had been difficult for Eleanor to remain so passive, and she hoped that Max’s words truly meant what she thought they did.

“Are you sure?” Eleanor asked, her eyes trained on Max keenly, looking for any signs of uncertainty.  “I can wait as long as …”

“I’m sure,” Max said, her hips bucking unconsciously, giving the strength of her desire away.  “I need to come,” she breathed out honestly.

There was still some apprehension inside of her.  She felt ready, but she could not say with complete certainty how she would react to being touched between her legs, even by Eleanor.  What she was certain of was that she ached.  She had been able to give Eleanor release from the pressure that built between her legs, but she’d had no release herself.  Even on her own, in her room, when she woke up wet after dreaming of Eleanor, she had been unable to bring herself release, not able to stand the thought of even her own fingers inside of her. But she couldn’t take it anymore, her body had desires that gave no care about the worries of her mind, and she wanted to try, she needed to.

“One word,” Eleanor said seriously, looking into Max’s eyes.  “One word from you and I stop.  At any point,” she continued.  “I don’t want anything you don’t want.”

“I know,” Max breathed out.  “I’m sure,” she whispered, and Eleanor nodded before leaning down to kiss her.

Max was already aroused, but Eleanor took her time, slowly and carefully heightening her state of arousal.  She spent ages at Max’s breasts, licking and sucking and nipping and pinching, using her mouth and her hands to tease Max until her sounds of pleasure began to fill the air.  She kissed Max, long and deep as her hands trailed warmly up and down Max’s thighs.  She licked into Max’s naval and made her laugh, and then kissed her way up Max’s inner-thigh and made her moan.  She …

“Ellie,” Max panted, her fingers fisting in Eleanor’s hair.

Eleanor’s lips curved up against the smooth dusky skin of Max’s inner-thigh.

That was what she had been waiting for.

Eleanor shifted her head to the side, and brought her mouth to Max’s center and Max groaned in delight, her head tilting back, digging it into the pillow as her hips arched into Eleanor’s mouth, begging for more.

Starved for pleasure as Max had been, it did not take Eleanor long to bring Max to climax, even though she tried to stretch the pleasure out.  After a few minutes between Max’s legs, Eleanor wrapped her lips around Max’s clit as her hand massaged Max’s breast, and Max’s fingers tightened in her hair once again.  Max gasped and her thighs tensed, and then she exploded in climax.

Eleanor stayed between Max’s legs, riding out her orgasm with her until Max’s body slumped against the mattress, momentarily spent.  She then kissed her way up Max’s stomach, between the valley of her breasts and along her throat until she was able to press her lips against Max’s.

“Mm,” Max moaned as Eleanor’s lips slipped away from hers.  “Max likes the taste of herself on your lips.”

“Eleanor’s fond of it as well,” Eleanor responded, and Max smiled up at her indulgently before whacking her lightly on the arm.  “Are you okay?” Eleanor asked gently, when Max settled down.

“Oui,” Max sighed contently, a lazy smile turning up the corners of her mouth.  “Très Bien,” she added, her smile growing the slightest bit wider and naughtier.  “And…” Max began before letting the sentence lapse.

“And what?” Eleanor asked dutifully, gazing down at Max warmly.

“Max has caught her breath,” Max breathed out, and then a surprised laugh was tumbling from Eleanor’s lips as Max deftly flipped them over and slipped her leg between Eleanor’s thighs.  “I do love carriages in the country,” Max purred softly, “but why don’t you let Max take you for a ride?”

“Okay,” Eleanor whispered tremulously, utterly accommodating as a shiver of arousal pulsed through her.

Max smiled down at her adorningly, and then leaned down bringing their lips together in a kiss that soon had Eleanor moaning into her mouth.

xxx

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Eme commented as she walked into Eleanor’s office to find the blonde standing in front of the window, hands clasped loosely behind her back, humming softly.

“It’s a beautiful day in Nassau,” Eleanor breathed out, smiling as she turned to face her friend.

“I think it was a beautiful night in Nassau as well,” Eme commented, smirking when Eleanor’s eyes widened and pout touched her lips.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Eleanor said primly, though she knew her indignant tone would have no effect on Eme.

“I’m sure you do, but be that way if you want,” Eme replied moving over to Eleanor’s desk and depositing some papers onto it that needed to be looked over and signed.

“How did you know?” Eleanor sighed.

Max had snuck in after everyone had gone to bed and though they had made some vocalizations, they hadn’t been loud.  They never were.  They had gotten used to being relatively quiet, not wanting to attract undo attention from other patrons of the brothel back in the days when almost all of their encounters together had been under Noonan’s roof.

“I bumped into her on her way out this morning,” Eme replied, shrugging.  “Got her some rolls from the kitchen.  The poor thing looked like she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep,” she continued, looking at Eleanor pointedly which simply drew a smile to Eleanor’s face before her cheeks flushed and she looked away.

“We had a very good night together,” Eleanor murmured looking out the window again.

“I had gathered,” Eme replied, and Eleanor turned back to look at her and rolled her eyes.  “Was it …”

“Yes,” Eleanor interjected huffily.  “Before you ask another impertinent and inappropriate question, it was mutually beneficial.  Now do you have any relevant questions to ask me, or did you just come in here to interrogate me about my night?”

“Mostly I came to interrogate you, but Captain Naft is also asking to see you,” was Eme’s mild reply.

“Oh lord,” Eleanor sighed, though she didn’t actually mind dealing with Captain Naft.  The man could be a bit slow at times, but he was reasonable, which she appreciated at Consortium meetings, he was loyal – another quality which highly recommend him to her – and he was a decent man, which was what she liked about him the most.  “Send him in,” Eleanor said, taking a seat behind her desk.

Eme nodded and headed for the door.

“Look at those and sign them, now not later,” she called out from the doorway, nodding to the papers she had left on Eleanor’s desk and then she was gone.

“Look at those and sign them,” Eleanor muttered peevishly from behind her desk.  “I’m the boss,” she mumbled under her breath, allowing herself a few seconds longer to sulk before she picked up a quill and got to work reading and signing the documents Eme had left for her, knowing that her friend was right, and that when she put off her paperwork she usually did forget to go back to it until she was reminded.

xxx

“Tell me again how this is supposed to make us more money?” Jack asked, narrowing his eyes at Max dubiously until he was near squinting at her.

“Because pirates are perverts, but they do not want everyone to know exactly what kind of deviant they are,” Max explained patiently.

“Yes, well, that might be true, but I don’t exactly see how we can exploit that more than we already do.  You can only charge a man so much for the privilege of sucking on a pretty girl’s,” he paused and glanced around him, “The toes of a female,” he amended, still unconvinced by Max’s newest scheme to bleed more money out their patrons.

“And that stunning lack of imagination is exactly why you need Max,” Max sighed, resting her elbows on the table before leaning in towards Jack conspiratorially.  “It will take some coordinating with the girls, but ultimately it will put more money in their ‘ands as well as ours, so getting them onboard should not be an iss…”

“Got news,” Anne said gruffly, sliding onto the bench beside Jack.

“I was literally in the middle of something,” Max muttered, looking over at Anne irritably.

“Got news,” Anne repeated and Max sighed deeply and looked away.

“The suspense, my dear.  It’ll be the end of me.  What news?” Jack asked impatiently.

“Vane’s fucked,” Anne replied, her lips curving up in a smile before she snorted in amusement.

“Does ‘e live?” Max asked staring into the flickering flame of the torch that hung on the wall opposite it her, her eyes hard and vicious as she waited for Anne’s response.

“Can’t say,” Anne replied.  “Probably.  That cunt’s ‘ard to kill,” she muttered gloomily though her voice was tinged with a touch of respect.

“Then the world ‘asn’t fucked ‘im hard enough,” Max stated mercilessly.

“’is ship got smashed up inna storm,” Anne offered in an attempt to cheer Max up.  “ _The Grey Wolf_ found parts of ‘is new Ranger in the Bay of ‘onduras.  Didn’t find no bodies, but ain’t no one’s ‘eard or seen from anyone onboard since the crack up, and word is weren’t no other ships around when the sea threw ‘er fit.” Anne paused then and looked over at Max.  “Might be you got yer wish.”

“Max will drink when she sees ‘is head on a platter,” Max breathed out viciously.

“How very biblical,” Jack muttered, “our own little Salome,” he continued, eyeing Max warily before he polished off the rest of his drink and then poured himself another.

He was surrounded by terrifying women.

He stared at the bottle in his hand for a moment, and then tipped it again, making his drink a double.

“Jack’s a nickname for John, is it not?” Eleanor asked as she approached the table that Max, Anne and Jack were sharing.  “Given that fact, a Salome joke is a rather bold choice.  Especially when one considers the wide array of silverware at Max’s disposal,” she continued, grinning at Jack before her smile turned tender as her gaze shifted to land on Max.

“’Ello cunt,” Anne greeted as Eleanor slipped onto the bench beside Max.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Bonny,” Eleanor replied warmly, a pleasant smile touching her lips as she turned to look at Anne.  She could do without Anne’s ‘charming’ custom greeting, but tensions had eased between herself the Anne after they worked together to free Max, and in the weeks that followed Eleanor had grown to almost like the redhead.  “I see you’ve acquired a new hat.  I approve.  It frames your face well.”

“Good’a you to notice ‘n kind’a you to say,” Anne replied, tipping her hat to Eleanor graciously.  “Ain’t everybody so considerate,” she went on, turning to look at Jack pointedly.

“I was simply waiting for a private moment to …” Jack began, shifting uncomfortably under Anne’s cold stare.  “Express my …” he swallowed uncomfortably when Anne’s expression remained unchanged.  “So glad you found the time to stop by for a visit,” Jack said, turning his attention to Eleanor.

“Anything to brighten your day,” Eleanor replied, and beside her Max laughed softly.  “Can I steal you away?” Eleanor whispered, resting her hand on Max’s thigh as she leaned over to speak into Max’s ear.

Max’s head angled to the side and then tilted up so that she could see Eleanor’s face.

“Oui,” Max breathed out, gazing up at Eleanor unblinkingly.  “Bien sûr.”

“Oh god,” Jack moaned piteously, rolling his eyes as he tilted his head back.  “French,” he sighed miserably.  “Anne, my dear, I fear that if we wish to keep down our lunch it would be best for us to directly take our leave,” he continued, shifting himself against Anne’s body and then nudging her side with his elbow, indicating that she should move.

“We’re gonna go,” Anne muttered, nodding quickly to Max and Eleanor in turn before she slipped off of the bench, Jack following right behind her.

“I’m not done with you, Jack,” Max said as Jack and Anne turned to flee into the depths of the brothel.  “You will ‘ear the rest of what Max ‘as to say later.”

“Can’t wait, best of luck with all of this,” Jack replied, waving his hand around carelessly in Eleanor and Max’s general direction before he took Anne’s hand and lead her away quickly.

“I can’t help but think it was the company,” Eleanor murmured as her eyes followed Jack and Anne’s retreat.

Max smiled up at Eleanor, and then took a quick look around to make sure that they were not being watched before she arched up and pressed a quick kiss to Eleanor’s cheek.

“Max is fond of the company,” she breathed out as she pulled back.

“Well that’s all that matters,” Eleanor stated, smiling gently as she looked over at Max.

“Where are you stealing Max away to?” Max asked, a slight purr entering her voice as her eyes searched Eleanor’s face.

“A business meeting,” Eleanor replied apologetically.  “I was hoping to make use of your keen eyes,” she explained.

“’ow?” Max asked curiously, intrigued but surprised by the Eleanor’s request to have her directly involved in one of her business dealings. 

Eleanor talked to her about the Consortium’s dealings all of the time, and had asked for Max’s advice on more than one occasion.  But that was always in private, behind closed doors.

“A ship called _The Argonaut_ has ported in Nassau for the first time, and it’s Captain, a Mr. Stark, claims to have a very lucrative proposition for me,” Eleanor began angling her body intimately towards Max.  “I met Captain Stark briefly late this morning, and … well, I find him rather … problematic.”

“Problematic?” Max asked arching a dark eyebrow at Eleanor.

“He’s … a gentleman,” Eleanor sighed.

“I gathered that from you referring to ‘im as ‘Mister’ Stark,” Max replied, giving Eleanor a look that indicated Max was finding her responses completely unhelpful.

“Conversing with him is like speaking with a member of my extended family,” Eleanor breathed out dejectedly.  “Impenetrable manners, an aloof English gaze, and a crisp emotionless voice.”   She sighed again, deeply.  “He’s using the same playbook as me, Max.  I can’t see what lies behind his aristocratic facade.  You seem to be able to read me like a book, so I was hoping your powers of observation would be able to dismantle Captain Stark as thoroughly as they do me.”

Max smiled up at her warmly, and Eleanor’s cheeks flushed slightly under the adoring look.

“What?” Eleanor asked self-consciously, her eyes flickering away from Max’s.

“You still present some challenge, ma chérie,” Max breathed out playfully, her eyes sparkling happily as she smiled up at Eleanor.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Eleanor said, breathing out loudly in mocking relief.  “I was beginning to worry,” she continued, a smile growing on her lips as she did.

“You never need to worry,” Max whispered.

“I love you too much not to,” Eleanor murmured.

“Tu es un trésor,” Max sighed, wishing desperately that they were alone where she could take Eleanor’s face between her hands and kiss her until Eleanor was moaning into her mouth, wet and ripe for the taking.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eleanor breathed out roughly.  “Not here, not now,” she continued shakily as her eyes focused on Max’s lips.  “I have to go meet Captain Stark and I’d prefer not to do it wet.”

Max breathed in deeply and her upper-lip twitched and curled slightly as powerful throb of desire pulsed between her legs.

“Fuck,” Max rasped, tearing her eyes away from Eleanor’s before shifting her body away from the blonde’s, putting some much needed space between them.

Eleanor licked her lips and then closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath before she opened her eyes and tilted her head over to face Max, a lazy smile playing across her lips as she did.

“Will you help me?” Eleanor asked.

“It would be my ‘onour,” Max breathed out.  “And afterwards, you will be Max’s reward.”

“I find those terms more than agreeable,” Eleanor sighed, her voice light and breathless. “We should go,” she continued decisively.  “I … I fear what should happen if we linger here any longer,” she continued before slipping off of the bench and onto her feet.

Once standing, Eleanor held out her hand to Max who took hold of it with a soft exhalation of, “Merci,” and then allowed Eleanor to help her to her feet.

“Do you ‘ave any idea what this proposition Captain Stark ‘as for you regards?” Max asked as they began to make their way through the brothel towards the neighbouring tavern.

“He gave me no clue this morning,” Eleanor replied.  “However, if the recent reports we’ve been getting about the…”

They made their way through the crowd and into the next building as Eleanor speculated about the possible nature of Stark’s proposal.  When they arrived at the tavern, Stark was seated with his back towards the door Eleanor and Max entered through, so Eleanor took advantage of the lucky break and held her hand up to Eme how stood behind the bar, indicating that she should escort Stark to her office in five minutes.

Eleanor and Max then continued on their short journey and slipped inside room, closing the door behind them.  Eleanor walked over to her desk and took a seat in the chair while Max perched herself on the edge, and they spoke quickly, discussing the best way to go about handling the coming meeting.

They were still talking when a knock sounded at the door.

Eleanor looked at Max and Max nodded and then slipped off the edge of the desk and moved to stand at the side of Eleanor’s chair, her hand coming to rest casually on the top of it.

“Come in,” Eleanor called out.

Eme pushed the doors open and light from the windows behind Eleanor’s desk flared, temporarily blinding Captain Stark as he stepped into the room.

“Good afternoon,” Eleanor greeted, rising gracefully from her chair as Captain Stark lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the light.  “I’m delighted to have this opportunity to speak with you.  Please, take a seat,” she continued graciously, waving at the two chairs on the other side of her desk.  “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve asked my retainer to sit in,” Eleanor said, gesturing towards Max.  “Maxine,” she breathed out, and Max smiled charmingly at Captain Stark before murmuring, “Enchantée.”

Stark studied Max for a moment, and then turned to look at Eleanor, his brows creasing the slightest bit in confusion. 

“Retainer?” He asked dubiously, eyeing Max again before turning towards Eleanor with a doubtful look.

“Yes,” Eleanor replied blithely, smiling brightly at Captain Stark before she took her seat.  “Please, Captain,” she continued once she was seated.  “Do sit down.  I can promise that you’ll be much more comfortable.”

Stark watched her for a moment, and then with a slight pursing of his lips, he sat, warily.

“So,” Eleanor began enthusiastically, as Max watched Stark from the side of her chair with predatory focus.  “What’s this very exciting business opportunity you were so excited to tell me about this morning?”

 

The End


End file.
